


Recompense

by Krasimer



Series: Don't Take My Sunshine Away [23]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Genji is going to be alright, Jack is angry at Sombra, M/M, So is Gabe, Sombra (Overwatch) is a Little Shit, Sombra JUST CALL YOUR DAD, Sombra fucked up, Symmetra is going to seek vengence, Talk to Him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14279919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: verb1. make amends to (someone) for loss or harm suffered; compensate.Sombra swallowed, suddenly nervous.Deep in her gut, as if she had lit a match and dropped it into a pool of gasoline, something flared to life and she knew.She knew she was in trouble.





	Recompense

Sombra stared down at the unmoving body on the bed.

“His name is Genji,” the man standing next to her said, his tone of voice making it clear that he knew she already knew that. “You put him into a coma and he woke up briefly, a few days ago, but you did something to the systems keeping his body running.”

She nodded.

“You can earn a bit of freedom if you undo whatever it is you did to him,” the man said after a minute of watching her in silence.

Frowning, Sombra looked up at him, then sat down in the chair he pushed towards her. “What?”

“We just want him awake and alright again,” the man moved and stood like a soldier. She was willing to bet he had been, at one point. The grey hair and the lines on his face told her that he was older now, possibly retired. She had no idea who he was.

“So you’re going to trust me to fix him up?” she asked, an eyebrow raised.

“No,” came another voice. Sombra turned, slowly, towards the door of the room. She had recognized that one, at least a little. The man standing at the door looked nothing like the Reaper she remembered, but she knew it had to be him. “I’m going to be watching you the entire time. We’re also going to have someone in the room who you can’t hack.”

“You know me, Reaper,” she chuckled a little. “Do you think I can’t hack a comm unit?”

“Oh, I never said I was going to use a comm to talk to the person in the room.” Reaper grinned and it made her sway back a little, startled. He pressed a button on the door frame. “Electromagnetic field. Anything you might be able to hack and the signals from your ability to do so will hit this field and die. It’s in your best interest to just do what we’re asking you to do and then not do anything else.”

“Reaper,” Sombra felt a flash of anger in her chest, her hands clenching into fists. “What the hell are you doing this for?”

“You hurt two of mine,” Reaper’s eyes flashed wildly for a moment, his arms crossing over his chest and his posture telling her that he was only a minute or two from attacking her. She had gotten used to him, had figured out where the lines lay and where she should not cross.

This was a new line.

She had apparently sprinted over it, several times.

Cursing quietly, Sombra nodded and sat back down in the chair, leaning as far away from him as she could.

The man standing at her side moved across the room, standing next to Gabriel. “Your handler is on the way,” he told her. “So we’re all just going to stand here until he is here.” He fell back into parade rest, his angry gaze fixed on her.

“So who are you?” she managed to ask after a moment of stuttering silently. Both of them were angry and there was something about them as a unified front that terrified her. “I don’t recognize you and the curiosity is killing me.”

“Then you can suffer in silence and not knowing,” the man raised his chin a fraction. “I was on that mission with Symmetra. The one where you attacked her.”

Sombra winced back from the anger she could tell he felt, the way it roared through his frame and made his jaw clench, his eyes turn from a blue to an unyielding steel gray. He was _furious_ and she was in a precarious position, having attacked two of the people on his team. There would be no safety from Reaper, no backup from Widowmaker.

She was a part of the organization that had hurt them and right now, she was the enemy that they had a grasp on.

If she made one wrong move, she was going to be dead.

Swallowing her nerves and letting out her next breath slowly, Sombra nodded. “Is my handler close by?”

“I am here!” came a new voice. She recognized it from the old news reports, from videos she had seen. Wilhelm Reinhardt, the last of the Knights. He entered the room and Sombra felt dwarfed by him. The scarring around his eye pulled at his face when he frowned. “You are the one who attacked Genji in the first place,” he said, glancing at the unknown man and Reaper as they took posts just outside the room. “You will fix what you have altered and broken.”

“Yes,” Sombra nodded again, aware of how big his hands were in comparison to her skull.

“Then ve will have no problem,” he said gruffly, leaning against the wall just behind her. “Angela could not fix it without dismantling his entire body, leaving him fractured and in pain and even worse off than he was.”

She did feel a small spark of guilt at that.

It was an easy fix for her – just hack into the systems that made up his body, realign what she had pulled out of place. At first, when she had attacked him, she had just thought that he wore a bodysuit of some kind. When he had gone down so easily, she had rethought her assumptions.

Shimada Genji, cyborg and what remained of the youngest son of the Shimada clan.

She had managed to forget that word in her files on him.

The files she had on the members of Overwatch were old. Outdated. Personalities written electronically back when the people they resembled had something like happiness offered to them. Reaper, as she knew him, was not Gabriel Reyes, but he might not be Reaper now.

Not from the way he looked at the unknown soldier standing next to him.

There was a softness in his eyes – she had so rarely seen him without his mask – that said something along the lines of adoration. The way her mother and father had looked at each other before the gangs had come rolling in and taken that bit of safety away. Reaper wasn’t Reaper anymore and all the files she had read on Gabriel Reyes had been about him in the field, as a soldier.

She didn’t know who the man in front of her was.

With a quiet hum, Sombra twitched the connection from her to Genji, re-aligning the last thing and pulling back and away. Wilhelm Reinhardt stood next to her still, watching her every movement. “I’m done,” she told him quietly.

“Very good,” he spoke almost gently to her, putting a hand on her back and guiding her to stand and move to the wall. “You know what must happen now,” he told her, holding up the cuffs she had been released from specifically to do what they asked of her.

“Yes,” she almost wanted to yell at herself for how meekly she offered up her hands, but something inside of her made her do it.

It made her wonder what Talon had been doing to her.

Widowmaker had been reduced to a shell filled with the knowledge an assassin needed, Sombra had seen the files. Reaper, when Overwatch and Talon had fought over him, had been brought back and had been yelling the entire time until they sedated him. She had listened in on the devices in the room – Reaper had been accusing them of things like altering personalities, changing memories, invading minds.

If they could get to a man named Gabriel Reyes and change him into the monster known as Reaper, if they could get to a woman named Amelie LaCroix and change her into Widowmaker, what could they have done to a street gang member?

What could they have done to her?

Truthfully, she didn’t feel all that different from what she remembered. She remembered her mother and her father, faint though the memories were. She had been four when she’d seen her mother last, seven when her father had disappeared. Those memories were sharper, stood out more in her head.

Sombra made a decision.

“Could you have your doctor check me over?” she asked, interrupting the conversation that had started while she had been lost in thought.

Reaper – Gabriel – looked at her thoughtfully and then nodded slowly. “Anything specific you want her to look for?” he asked, exchanging a glance with the soldier at his side. “Or just a full physical?”

“My head,” Sombra gestured with the cuffs, vague and unsure. “My mind.”

Gabriel grinned at her and she could see, for just a moment, the young soldier from the files she had read on him.

 

xXxXx

 

Angela stared at the woman sitting on the bed in front of her.

The woman stared back, eyes wide. Her eyes were purple, the same type of synthetic as the ones Angela had used when putting Genji back together. A different color and a different purpose but the same brand.

It made a shiver run down her spine.

“When did you elect to get the alterations done?” she asked her patient, a hand poised over the tablet she held. A temporary file for a temporary patient. “Do you remember?”

“Eight years ago,” Sombra said it quickly, the memory on hand for easy recall.

Angela marked it down. “Professional or back-alley?”

“Professional. Wasn’t going to trust this much modification to a back-alley cyberneticist,” Sombra wrinkled her nose. “It goes from my skull to my spine – If I’d gone to someone without a license, I could have died.”

“Good,” Angela nodded, then reached forward to gesture upwards. “Look up. Just with your eyes.”

She wrote down a few notes when Sombra did, frowning as she spotted something in her eyes. “Have you been having problems with your sight, recently?”

“I,” Sombra blinked a couple of times, then frowned as well. “Yes.”

Marking that down as well, Angela nodded again. “We can fix that. Nothing to worry about, just a calibration issue. Your synthetics are showing the error light at the very bottom of your eyes. If you could look down, just your eyes again?” Sombra did that and Angela gave her a reassuring smile. “There, see? No failure light on the top. Just means calibration is necessary.”

Sombra gave her an uneasy smile, obviously off-kilter in the kindness Angela was showing her. The other woman had probably expected anger, rage and hatred.

Angela sighed, quiet and almost entirely internal, as she marked something down in the file.

It had occurred to her.

The woman sitting in front of her had nearly killed Satya, had harmed Genji in a way that was not easily fixed unless Angela was willing to put him through the trauma that had saved his life in the first place – she would never do that to him again, not willingly. Angela had had to nudge an un-cooperative Jesse McCree into man-handling his lover out of the hospital wing of their base. Hanzo Shimada was, at his core, just as stubborn as his little brother.

And Angela had been torn up with worry over the lot of them.

So yes, it had occurred to her that she might be in a unique position with Sombra as her patient. Angela had lost and found her family again and again, nearly lost Genji and almost lost Gabriel and had worked with Jack for months before anyone knew it was him. Her family was fractured but healing and every single time Talon stepped in and did something, it caused another fracture.

But she was a doctor.

She had taken an oath to never harm her patients, even if her patients were hackers and spies for an organization that disgusted her to her core.

Sombra looked off to one side, her hands curled into her lap. “…Is Satya alright?” she asked after several minutes of silence. “I…”

“…She will be,” Angela set down her tablet, settling into her chair at her desk as she started entering notes into the computer. “She is up and walking around under her own power – you didn’t hurt her as badly as you did Genji, I do not think. She is having some trouble speaking and breathing, as there is massive internal bruising in her throat, but she is healing.” Angela watched as Sombra winced. “When you were brought to me, Gabriel mentioned that you wanted a mental health checkup as well.”

“Talon did things to Reaper,” Sombra glanced up at her. “To Widowmaker.”

“And you want to know if they did anything to you.” Angela leaned back in her seat and nodded.

“I want to know everything they did to me, from your perspective. Moira tests whatever she feels like testing and Talon gives her room to do so.”

 

xXxXx

 

She was beginning to settle in.

It was strange to think about, Sombra decided as she looked around and tried to get her bearings. Reinhardt was still her guide and her guard, one of the ones able to be around her without even the slightest risk of her throwing off his fighting style. The two Australians were another set of people who could be around her.

Widowmaker only stared at her from a distance.

Not-Reaper did the same.

It was on her fourth day that she ran into someone else. While being walked back from the bathroom, Sombra spotted Satya Vaswani. She tucked herself practically against Reinhardt’s side when he stopped to talk to the other woman, a smile on his face and a happy glint in his eye. “You are looking well!” he seemed genuinely pleased to see her.

Satya greeted him, much quieter and softer than his own booming voice, then caught sight of Sombra. The change was immediate – Satya seemed to melt away and leave Symmetra in her place, ready to fight back if she had to. There were still traces of bruising around her throat and there was a different arm attached to her left side. A temporary one, an older model that Sombra actually recognized from when she’d had her own enhancements put in.

“What is she doing here,” Symmetra demanded, her eyes narrowing as she studied Sombra. There was something in her gaze, something that made her feel as if Symmetra was mechanically taking her apart, piece by piece, with nothing more than her mind.

She probably was, come to think of it.

Sombra took a deep breath, steeling herself quickly. “I am sorry for having attacked you,” she managed to get the sentence out before Reinhardt could answer. “I am glad to see you up and about.”

In a second, she could feel the shift.

There was something else in Symmetra’s eyes, now. Something beyond simply studying Sombra and breaking her into component pieces. Something almost…Hungry.

Something that seemed like a want to do violence, just barely contained by anger and manners.

“I am alive,” Satya raised her chin. “That is what matters.”

A second later, she excused herself and bid goodbye to Reinhardt, walking past the both of them. Sombra watched her go, watched the swing of her hips as she left the room. She was wearing what looked to be a sari, maybe, in shades of blue. There was something almost ethereally lovely about her.

Sombra swallowed, suddenly nervous.

Deep in her gut, as if she had lit a match and dropped it into a pool of gasoline, something flared to life and she _knew._

She knew she was in _trouble._

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I have been gone for so long. Have some Sombra fucking up.


End file.
